


Go On and Catch it While You Can

by stardustedknuckles



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Timeline, F/F, Flash Fic, Fluff, Light Angst, and a dash of Hurt/Comfort, atmospheric musings, dubiously cool thunder god stuff, spoilers for 130
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 05:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles
Summary: Sleep isn't coming easy after Beau's little chat, so she decides to go check and see if Yasha's night has gone any better. Results are unclear, but it's fine. They'll make their own good experiences.Set immediately after 130, contains spoilers.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 9
Kudos: 203





	Go On and Catch it While You Can

**Author's Note:**

> it's 2:30 AM and I just had to write something at the thought of Yasha failing a CON save for the flower. It kind of got away from me. I love that the thought process was "okay I'm gonna write about Beau finding Yasha not doing so hot after the flower snack" and I started with "so she's in bed a hundred yards away, right."
> 
> This is why nothing gets done under 700 words. I ain't mad about it. Goodnight!

Beau's no stranger to wandering off for a while to talk to weirdly powerful beings that probably have big secret plans for her and which prefer to remain aloof and inscrutable.

_Obviously_.

But she's also unable to sleep, just lying here on her side and staring at the empty bedroll next to her as the lightning flashes through the windows above. Beau's never been a big fan of storms, being from a place like Kamordah. Storms mostly tended to make the whole town one giant mudhole for a week.

Well. A more literal mudhole.

To be honest, the whole thing with Kord calling Yasha away for days at a time early on hadn't improved Beau's opinion of storms much. Leaving is a hard association to shake. She has this thing with Yasha herself now, though, and that goes a long way to letting Beau lie here in something closer to enjoyment on this hard floor, wondering what cool shit her girlfriend is up to out there. She hopes Kord is talking to Yasha like she's been wanting to - a simple conversation doesn't seem to her like that big a favor to grant someone's champion.

Besides, connection is so important to Yasha - something she's only starting to see as anything more than a luxury dream. If Kord's got time to do storm stuff, he can take a minute and let Yasha know he's listening. 

Storm stuff and conversation are probably the same thing for him. Good. Yasha deserves the attention of a god, and she's certainly done enough to earn it a million times over.

Beau warms a little with pride, smiling into the dark. Yasha's probably having a great time.

But also it's been an hour of trying and failing to sleep, and the rest of them would have totally come looking for her and Caleb by now. 

Beau tries lying still for one more thirty-second burst before she gives in and gets to her feet. In the end, she'd rather go hang around all nonchalant in Yasha's general area and get soaked than stay here thinking about the fact that Lucien apparently has more say in these eyes than she thought. She'd wondered for a while if maybe the somnovum had chosen her and Caleb out of his sight. Like maybe he just thought he was special.

The theory might be a bust, but he's still not special.

But gods, Beau doesn't even wanna think about what else he can do if he can try and force eyes on her. Gross gross _gross_. Her whole brain felt slimy after that. Frankly, it still does.

Caduceus stirs as she creeps outside, and she's pretty sure he saw her and knows what's up. It's fine. Knowing what's up would also be why he doesn't give any indication he heard a damn thing. Actually, she notices now, there's a curious lack of snoring all around. Doesn't seem like anyone's sleeping great tonight.

She'd stripped down to her breastband and undershorts for bed, and the rain feels good on her skin in a way she's not super used to as she steps out onto the grass. Maybe it's the grove, or maybe it's the fact that she's associating storms with Yasha these days - she snickers to herself just a little because there's a joke about her being wet and Yasha and - whatever. Keep looking.

Point is, the rain feels less shitty and damp, and more…like the stuff that makes flowers grow.

She spends a few minutes looking for Yasha in the dark before the obvious solution hits her. Beau leans carefully - and respectfully - on a nearby headstone and turns an eye to the sky, letting the wind and rain wash over her face and enjoying the moment.

Any second…

A peal of lightning cracks down to the left, close enough to make Beau's teeth rattle but seeming to have missed the hundreds of trees. Sounds like god stuff - there's her answer. Beau starts moving, feeling a little concerned twinge in her chest. Thunder gods - most gods, near as Beau can tell - don't have the best history with stuff like limits or mortality. If Yasha even counts as mortal.

The point is, where there's lightning there's Yasha. Beau just hadn't expected quite that much of it.

She steps out into a small clearing unimpeded by treetops just as the sky lights up again - no bolts coming down, just a stuttering flash that illuminates the half-dressed figure lying flat on her back in the grass and looking straight up.

Beau glances anxiously at the clouds and rushes over to Yasha, looking for any "oh shit" signals. Nothing so obvious as a smoking crater or a jagged burn mark, so that's a plus, but there's blood coming from her mouth and she's laughing to herself, so like. A little further from acceptable levels of normal than Beau's comfy with.

"Hey." She slides a hand under Yasha's head and tries not to slip and fall on her ass in the dirt as she pulls her up to half lean against her. "Yasha. Anyone home?"

Her eyes are far off, but at the sound of Beau's voice they seem to clear a little. The giggling stops - Beau couldn't quite call it cute, but it didn't sound deranged at least - and Yasha turns her head against Beau's shoulder to blink at her. "You're really wet."

"You know, that is so validating because I was just thinking on the way over here -" Beau cuts herself off. Focus. "Not important. Talk to me here. Everything okay?"

Yasha seems to remember something suddenly and tries to sit up a little. The hand she swipes across her mouth has some grass on it - which is kind of true for Yasha's everything, now that Beau's looking closer actually, and maybe it shouldn't be quite such a turn-on for Beau to see Yasha kinda feral and dirty but here they are. "Where's my sword?"

Beau reaches out to pluck a bit of grass from Yasha's lower lip and squints around. "Well, which way did you throw it?"

Yasha doesn't rise to the joke, looking around frantically before locking onto something Beau can't see and lurching towards it. Her arm gives out and she just sort of collapses into the grass, but Beau follows her line of sight and gropes around for a second. Everything's the same color in the rolling white light, and Beau almost doesn't realize she's found it when her hand bumps the metal - the blade is super warm and sort of tingly.

Yasha on the ground plus weird sword shit in a thunderstorm. It's starting to come together.

A retching sound pulls Beau's attention back, and in the rolling lightning she can see Yasha hacking up blood and bits of something pale that take her a moment to place as she moves close again.

"Hey, hey, I got your sword. Take it easy." She lays the blade down and grips Yasha's shoulders. She goes calm. Beau squints at the confusing jumble of light and darkness in the grass and takes a wild guess at what she's looking at. "So uh...were there rules about eating the flowers too, or just for picking them?"

Yasha huffs at her as she pulls herself up to her knees, but she's smiling faintly. Beau's pretty sure she is anyway.

"I was trying what Caduceus did." Her voice is steadier now, closer to regular Yasha but a little raspy. It's working for Beau. "Maybe whoever was buried under that flower took exception? I don't know. Guess it still worked though."

She looks tired, the light creating or enhancing bags under her eyes, but Beau thinks she also looks accomplished somehow. But then, Beau could just have rainwater in her eyes.

"Come on." She stands up and holds her hands out, and after a second Yasha takes them and gets unsteadily to her feet. "Your sword," says Beau, and picks it up to present it with a grand flourish.

Yasha accepts it with a small smile and looks it over, and Beau takes the moment to marvel at the way the lightning makes her eyes seem both devoid of color and more distinct somehow. They might be glowing a little bit themselves. It's hard to tell.

"Learn anything new?"

Yasha comes back to herself and sheaths the weapon before leaning just a little on Beau's shoulder as they start walking. Beau gets the sense she doesn't have to. She just wants to. "I don't really know," Yasha says after a few steps. "I think…maybe I'll have better answers in the morning?"

Beau nods. "Also maybe a little more stuff to get out of your system."

"Possibly." Yasha uncurls her palm in the dark, and a tendril of light curls up from the center like a glimmering sprout to brighten their path. They're quiet for a few more yards, and then Yasha's arm around Beau's shoulder tightens a little. "Trouble sleeping, by the way?"

They're close enough to the house that the bioluminescent stuff growing all around gives off a decent low light, and Yasha's magic disappears like it's bedding down to sleep itself.

Yasha's hair in the bluish glow of the moss is soaked and unkempt, a little blood still on her jaw. In spite of the obvious toll her encounter has taken on her, she looks more alive somehow.

Beau smiles up at her. "Think I'll have better luck this time." She brushes at some stubborn bits of grass on Yasha's bicep. "Let's get dried off and wrap up together in your cloak or something."

"Okay." Yasha returns her smile and kisses Beau softly on her rain-slick forehead. "I'm really glad I get to stay now. That I'm able."

Something in her tone catches Beau's ear, and understanding dawns a second later. "You think he called you away before because you needed to be away? Figure stuff out on your own?"

"He is very big on that," Yasha agrees. "Or he was. Until I figured out that I…my strength came from all of you." She looks up at the sky, and Beau follows her gaze. No lightning anymore, just storm. "Now I get to stay."

Looking at the sullen clouds, Beau gets the vague sense she's just been chaperoned again somehow. At least Yasha's in decent shape. She can't get too worked up.

"I guess it's good you run on the power of assholes," says Beau, and she's gratified when Yasha chuckles at that.

"I was thinking bonds and relationships, but I like yours better."

They're at the door now, and when Beau reaches to push it open there's a final rumble of thunder behind them. Neither of them turn around, but a kind of heaviness that Beau can't name settles in the air and on their shoulders. Beau glances up to Yasha and finds her looking as though she's on the cusp of saying something. Suddenly, it's hard to breathe.

"Don't say goodbye to me," Beau blurts. At Yasha's gently surprised expression, she searches for how to elaborate, to explain the feeling rolling inside of her as surely as the lightning had rolled above them.

"Just. I dunno, everyone seems to be looking at things like it's the end and seeing their families one last time, and." She remembers to breathe. "I mean hell, I even saw Dairon and wondered if maybe it would be the last time, but like. With you, it's just us, right? To say it to?"

Yasha nods uncertainly. "Just you." She peers at Beau with a concern she can't place. "But I wasn't planning to say it at all."

Yasha doesn't bother saying things that aren't true, not like this, but Beau needs that little extra edge. "Because you think we have a shot?"

Yasha's mouth makes a hard line - not anger, determination. "Because nothing else is acceptable," she says simply. "We just started - all of us have, in our own ways." She shrugs slightly. "I fully intend to make it back to you - to all of you. That's just...how it's going to go."

Beau's chest feels too tight, but she manages a weak smile. "You're real hot when you tell the universe how it's gonna be, you know that?"

Yasha straightens up to take her own full weight, and Beau can smell the rain and the grass and the ozone of her when she leans in close, breath ghosting over Beau's lips. "Where do you think I learned it?"

There's so many things Beau could say to that, and the dumb ones are feeling kind of indistinguishable from the deep ones. Executive decision: Beau punts them all down a mental hallway and just kisses Yasha instead. It's raining, the glowing moss has a really cool ambience, and Yasha's here with her in spite of everything. They can assess in the morning.

For now, being right here is more than enough.


End file.
